


Till death do us part

by veeraha



Series: Kisses and some untold stories [3]
Category: Death Note
Genre: Angst, Divorce, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Kisses, M/M, fun ending!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 19:38:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5387795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veeraha/pseuds/veeraha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Words. Ink. Paper. Black and white.<br/>Sometimes this is all it takes to end a 'forever'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till death do us part

The envelope is sitting right at the edge of the tray, its jagged brown edges sticking out from under the menu from that new Chinese place next door and it weighs at the edge of Light’s vision, sticking out like a neon bulb, screaming for attention.

The stress ball is making his palms sweaty and it only makes him feel a little less murderous. Light loosens his tie and rests his head against the cold edges of the desk, clicking the pen open and closed with his free hand.

‘Light?’

Light’s eyes jerk open.

Matsuda’s brows are furrowed from across the cubicle, cradling the phone at the crook of his neck.

‘You mind? I’m taking an important call.’

‘Right. Sorry Touta.’

Light realises his voice had come out softer than he had wanted to and Matsuda’s face crumples into an apologetic half smile as he leans over and pats Light’s shoulder a bit before disappearing back into his cubicle.

He is already sure he will be cornered later in the day and be dragged out to the pub after work. Everyone is suddenly walking on thin ice around him, and if it weren’t for the detached amusement he feels at watching people make excuses for his own behaviour, Light is sure it would have been pretty unbearable.

* * *

It has been raining all afternoon and it is colder on the floor now that he's the only one there. His thin cardigan can’t keep the cold out and Light shivers, texting Matsuda another lie about being sick. It probably won’t be a lie much longer if he doesn’t find something hot to drink soon

He’s just finishing up the last of the case notes when Teru drops by, brushing the rain from his jacket, cradling cups of coffee in hand.

Teru's cuffs are undone and he is rolling his sleeves up when Light raps his knuckles on his cabin door.

Light takes the coffee cup from his tray silently and settles down on the armchair, taking a large sip. 'He remembers how much sugar I take', Light notes and the warmth dissolves in his mouth, spreading inside him as Teru locks the door behind him.

‘How was your day?’, he asks, pressing kisses at the edge of Light’s jaw, wrapping him in his arms.

‘Why did you lock the door? There’s no one here except me.’

Teru sighs and lets go of Light’s fingers

‘Do I need to ask what’s wrong? Or will you just tell me?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Right’, Teru gets up, pressing his fingers at the bridge of his nose.

‘Did he call you again? Is that it?’, he can feel the onset of a headache.

‘Why do you assume everything has to do with him?’ Light snaps back.

‘Well. Did you sign it yet?’ Teru asks, shaking some stray raindrops from his hair in an excuse to look away from Light’s face.

Light doesn’t answer and he doesn’t press the issue further.

He has missed him. There are shadows under Light’s eyes that weren’t there last week and there’s a pang of guilt in Teru’s heart when he realises Light probably hasn’t eaten all day.

‘Come here’, he holds his hand out and Light is still unmoved.

‘Light please?’

Light gives in and Teru cups his hand behind his head, pressing him against the table and kissing him deeply. It’s a good thing they’re the only ones on the floor and the dimmed ambience lighting in Teru’s cabin throws more shadows around them, the glass walls barely hiding anything. Light moans against Teru’s lips and it is such a relief to be back in his arms. They can never be this close when the others are there, and Teru’s arms tighten around his waist and Light leans in and nips at Teru’s neck.

Light finishes the remainder of his coffee while Teru kisses his head, carding his fingers through Light’s hair and as much as he’d hate to admit it, Light feels relaxed and better somehow. He needs Teru right now. There is no way he can do this alone.

‘Kiyomi called. She asked if you’ve checked your mail yet.’

Light smiled softly.

‘I haven’t yet, and now that you’ve told me, I’m afraid of what’s waiting for me.’

‘Probably more rings? She sent me some too. She thinks I need to be pushed along.’

‘Hmm..Your sister seems more interested in us getting married than we are ourselves’

Teru’s face falls at that and Light suddenly wishes he could the words back. He’s been hurting too many people lately and wipes the coffee from the corners of Teru’s lips, planting a kiss there.

‘I’ll make dinner when I get home. But I want you to go back right now, take a shower and sleep. I don’t want to see you like this when I get back’, Teru tells him, kissing each of his knuckles and the weight of that brown envelope has all but disappeared from Light’s shoulders.

* * *

The taxi is stuck in the crossing and rain falls in a thick impenetrable stream against the windows when Light decides to check his voicemail.

8 new messages.

‘Light..’

That voice crashes against Light in all its sickening familiarity, and his reaction is almost unconscious, softened and shaped by time. It twists in Light’s gut like a knife and burns all the way down.

‘Light..Call me. I need to ask you something.’

He sounds soft, faraway, like he’s talking from another room. Like he used to in the mornings, and Light would hear him from the bathroom, asking for the towel he’d left sitting on the bed.

Light deletes the rest of the messages without listening to them and tosses the phone on the empty seat beside him and briefly considers calling Teru. But it’s probably not the best time to disturb him. The new interns had been giving them all a lot of trouble and his own constant mood swings has only made it more difficult.

‘Call me..Please.’

The sound of his breath drowned out the rest of the call and Light flinched at the very recollection of it.

He’d said ‘please’.

He never says that. He’s too proud, too stubborn, too full of himself to ask for help. This must be serious.

‘This is the last time’, he says to himself, the lie sounding flimsy even to his own ears, as he dials the number from memory, as if deleting it from the phone would have helped him forget too.

The phone rings for a long time and Light is tempted to hang up before the call is picked up.

He clenches his eyes shut and waits for the inevitable, that doesn’t happen. There’s no response from the other end.

‘L? Hello?’

‘Light.’

The word is slurred, breathy, almost nasal.

‘You.. um..asked me to call. What is it?’

 ‘I did?’, he asks and Light wonders if he’d been crying. His voice sounds rough.

‘You sound awful. Are you okay?’, Light blurts out without meaning to, it’s a hard habit to break.

‘Oh yes. I remember. I can’t find my slippers. Did you take them?’

Light has to let the words sink in first before answering.

‘What?’

‘My slippers Light. The red ones. They’re not in any of the boxes. I want them.’, his words slurred softly.

‘L are you drunk?’

He laughs a little and it rings oddly in Light’s ears, echoing like bells in the small confines of the taxi.

‘A little maybe? We never opened that bottle Naomi got us. I thought we finally have reason to celebrate, since you don’t need to see my face anymore.’

His words cut into Light like the phantom ache of bones broken and healed over, but never quite the same way and Light doesn’t want this anymore.  

‘L..’

‘Ah..I’m sorry. You must be out, dinner reservations and all. I’ll do without the slippers. It’s fine.’

‘Listen to me!’, and the taxi driver turns back to look at him, alarmed at how loudly he’d said the words

‘I’m sorry Light. I must be a little hammered yeah? I’ll regret this when it wears off.’

‘I’m coming over’, Light adds softly.

‘Hmm?’

‘L? Did you hear me? I’m coming over.’

* * *

 

Light’s footsteps sound strange to his ears as he makes his way up the stairs to L’s flat, dodging the piled up newspapers, his own keys jingling in his hands, a quiet reminder in the night that he has to go back, that Teru will be waiting for him.

The bright headlights of a car outside fall across the landing from the window and it’s like all those years ago, the night before Raye’s birthday and Naomi had left for the weekend to be with him. They had the entire flat to themselves and the tips of Light’s fingers still remember pushing the jacket down from L’s shoulders, brushing against the outline of his collarbone, his mouth sucking gentle bruises at the sensitive skin, making L shiver. He was so thin back then, he felt like he weighed nothing and Light had pushed him against the wall and kissed him till he pushed Light away, panting.

The door is slightly open and Light slips in silently, almost like an intruder.

 He forgets to lock the doors, he’s always done that. Teru wouldn’t even leave his phone without a password and this week must be getting to him, Light chastises himself for even encouraging this train of thought, be it unconsciously. He isn't going to sink down to that level, not now, not ever. 

‘L? Why is it so dark here?’

There is no response and Light almost stumbles against the carpet, cursing under his breath as his vision adjusts to the dark. A window is open somewhere and the draft gnaws at Light’s face as he gropes against the walls, looking for the switch.

‘In here’, L’s voice rings out somewhere towards him and he follows it back the room. L’s bedroom, as it had been back then. Light’s fingers find the switch and he turns it on, and L curses.

‘Turn it off! Jesus.’

‘Why are you sitting in the dark?’, taking off his coat and turning out the lights again, plunging the room back into nothingness.

The bed is missing, and the room is bare save the mattress is on the floor on which L has draped himself. There are books piled high around his head. The storage boxes lie discarded in a heap in a corner. The scene flickers in negative in Light’s eyelids, a ghostly apparition left in the wake of his short lived tryst with the world of seeing.

‘Migraine’, L adds solemnly, his left arm covering his eyes

If it had been a couple of years ago, Light would have leaned over and taken his head onto his lap and rubbed gently on his temples till he fell asleep, but now he settles for a concerned quirk of his eyebrows and pads off to the other room, leaving the door closed.

The kitchen is a mess, there are dishes piled high in the sink. There is a half eaten piece of pie on the table that L had been eating before he apparently realized that tending to his headache was more important than feeding himself and Light tosses it in the bin. God this place smells like a tip.

Light finishes wiping the last of the dishes and is wiping the counter down when L resurfaces from the bedroom, bleary eyed and devoid of any slippers.

‘You didn’t have to do that’, he whispers, pouring himself a glass of water.

‘Hmm. I was going to leave anyway’, Light asks wiping his hands on the dishtowel.

‘You don’t have a fever do you?’ he brushes L’s hair back and rests the back of his palm on his forehead, knocking L’s glasses askew.

‘Ow.’

‘Did that hurt? Sorry’, Light whispers, trying not to look at him. He looks like he has been sleeping in that shirt for days and it hangs off his thin frame like the shroud on a corpse and guilt pierces Light's heart like a vice.

‘I need to go’, he says and he might have just been speaking to the walls the way L refuses to acknowledge him.

‘You look good’ and Light stops, turns and he’s looking at him, smiling sheepishly and rubbing at his neck like does, wincing slightly at the pain in his head and Light shouldn’t have come. He doesn’t need to do this anymore.

‘You don’t. There were cockroaches under the sink.’

‘Oh’, he wipes his lips and Light catches the glint of the overhead lamps off of his ring. He still hasn’t taken it off.

‘L please. Stop this. Don’t act like this is all my fault.’

‘Your fault? Did you infect my flat with cockroaches?’, he is smiling again and Light wants to punch him, give him a shiner to compliment the migraine.

‘I’m not going to come around doing your dishes and picking up your things off the floor. Please don’t call me again.’

‘I was drunk. I told you’, L says, annoyed.

Light is already out the door and halfway down the stairs when L calls his name again.

‘Did you sign it yet?’

Light doesn’t answer and he almost runs into the man coming up the stairs, a couple of bulging Sainsbury’s bags in hand.

‘Slow down!’, the man calls and Light doesn’t wait around to hear him speak to L.

‘Hey Prof! I got your shopping.’

* * *

 

It’s almost 10 by the time Teru takes the elevator upto the penthouse and lets himself in. The house is dark. There’s a tap dripping somewhere. Light must still be asleep.

He pours himself a drink and pads off silently in the direction of the bedroom, setting the glass down on the table beside the bed. It’s a good thing he isn’t awake then, because he feels too lazy to get a coaster and Light feels so inviting that he decides he’d rather ruin his furniture than miss this opportunity. He loosens his tie and slips a hand under Light’s shirt, kissing on his neck.

Light’s eyes are wide open.

‘Light?’, Teru turns him around and there’s something wrong, he can feel it.

He shifts and there are bruises on his cheekbones, his lower lip is split and blood congealed in the corner of his mouth.

‘Light??’ he shakes him, lifting him up from the bed and Light is all but catatonic in his arms.

‘Did he do this? Light? Answer me.’

Teru grabs his phone from the table.

‘I’m calling Stephen.’

‘No! Wait!’, Light grabs at his wrists.

‘Light he hurt you. We need to inform the Police.’

Light’s face is unreadable, he’s in shock and he needs to be taken to the A&E.

‘Why didn’t you call me? Let me get you some ice for that.’

Light’s grip barely loosens on his wrist as Teru rushes to the kitchen and tumbles down ice cubes hastily onto a towel and runs back, switching the light on.

The ice tips over from his hand and skids on the floor with a crash and Light turns to look at him.

Their white sheets are stained red with blood.

There are matching bloodstains on Light’s shirt as well and Teru rushes to his side.

‘Oh my god’, his hands are under Light’s shirt, trying to find the source of the blood, but his probing fingers reveal nothing. He yanks the shirt off Light’s shoulders and his torso is unmarred by any wound.

‘Whose blood is this?’

‘Light?? What did you do?’

Light doesn’t reply.

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble to set the mood for the Multichapter, L/Light Divorce AU that's a WIP at the moment.  
> my tumblr: raconteur-incognito.tumblr.com


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